


A Tease and A Tyrant

by Catchclaw



Series: Mental Mimosa [65]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Academy Era, M/M, Rudely Awakened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-29 09:24:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15070145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catchclaw/pseuds/Catchclaw
Summary: Some days, it seemed like the only time Jim Kirk wasn’t running his mouth was when he was asleep. But some days, even in dreams, he couldn’t keep his trap shut.





	A Tease and A Tyrant

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: morning. Prompt from this [generator](http://colormayfade.tumblr.com/generator).

Some days, it seemed like the only time Jim Kirk wasn’t running his mouth was when he was asleep. But some days, even in dreams, he couldn’t keep his trap shut.

“Ok, look,” McCoy said, sitting up in their tiny bed, “that’s _enough_.” Three times this sleep cycle, Jim’s somnambulant rambling had booted him awake; three times he’d shaken the kid enough to interrupt the monologue and scooted back under the covers, semi-grateful. But now there were only two hours left before he had to be up and at’em, before he had to strap on those god-awful reds and hoof it across campus to lead morning rounds, and as much as he loved the beautiful disaster that was his boyfriend most days, this crap had gone too damn far.

He reached over and shook Jim hard; no gentle waves this time. Nuh uh. He went straight for grumpy earthquake.

“What the fuck,” Jim mumbled. His hands came up like sluggish bumblebees. “Ugh, blech, Lenny. Stop.”

“No,” McCoy said, still rocking Jim’s shoulders. “I’m not stoppin.’ Wake the fuck up.”

The kid opened one eye and even in the shadows, it gleamed. “I’m awake, I’m _awake_!” he got out, wiggling like a stuck fish. “Quit it already. God!”

McCoy stilled the shaking but didn’t let Jim go yet. Just in case. The bastard could fall asleep on a dime.

“Why’d you wake me up?” Jim huffed.

“I was lonely without you,” McCoy deadpanned. “Oh, wait, no I wasn’t, because you kept crashing my few golden hours of sleep, you and your damn motormouth.”

Jim arched his back a little and stretched beneath the covers, his thigh brushing McCoy’s. “Oh. Was I talking in my sleep again?”

McCoy snorted. “Talking? No. More like sermonizing.”

“Oh,” Kirk said again. He rolled on his side, leaned over to nuzzle McCoy’s chin. “And you have rounds today, don’t you? M’sorry, babe.”

“Yeah,” McCoy said, his annoyance cracking just a tad. A small fissure. “Well.”

Jim sighed and started petting his side, tracing the little valleys between his ribs. “M’sorry,” he said again.

McCoy turned his arms around the kid’s back and tucked him close; in response, Kirk purred and pressed a dry kiss to his cheek. “Hey, what can I say? You’ve got a mouth on you, Jim. Knew that getting in.”

Kirk’s mouth curved, sleepy lascivious. “Yeah, you did.”

“Ha, ha. Not what I meant.”

“Really?” Jim kissed his face again, firmer. Let his fingers slip down to McCoy’s hip. "It wasn't?"

“I mean, that didn’t hurt,” McCoy said. “Knowing what you could do with it when you weren’t flinging words at me a mile a minute.”

“Mmmmm, god. The first time I blew you. I thought you were gonna implode." The kid preened. "Your face, Lenny. Shit. It was like you'd seen god.”

“Ok, ok,” McCoy said. “This is not feed Jim Kirk’s ego theatre here. It’s too damn early in the morning to--”

Jim, the sneaky dick, tipped his head down and licked into McCoy’s mouth, slid his leg between McCoy’s. “No, it’s not,” he murmured. “And you need to get back to sleep.” His palm closed around McCoy’s stupid and time-insensitive cock. “You always sleep so good after I make you come.”

Somehow, McCoy’s hands were in the kid’s hair, holding him still for a long, hungry kiss. “You’re a tease and a tyrant, James T. Kirk. You know that?”

Kirk jerked him hard, his fist quick and perfect, and then rolled them, put McCoy on his back. “Yeah,” he said as he wormed under the covers, his smile soft and sly, “but you love me anyway.”

“Yeah,” McCoy breathed, shoving at the blankets so he could watch Jim’s mouth--the bane of his existence, his greatest fucking  joy--close around his cock, “I do.”


End file.
